Unlikely Type Rescue
by katbybee
Summary: Roy is out sick. He's dealing with the flu… Oh, is he dealing with it… Please review, and remember I own nothing but my cat and dog… or… they own me.


**A/N: **It's been a while since my Station 51 muse has spoken to me… she came up with a doozy this time. I hope you enjoy it. This little one-shot came about after my muse gave me a head-slap this afternoon. Two hours later and it was ready to post. Thanks to xavionite and wolfchild81 for being my betas. You guys are awesome! * Also, I have used it before, but thanks again to xavionite for the use of Roy's full first name and his middle name. She came up with it and loaned it to me for my stories.

**~The DeSoto Home~**

**15:42 Hours**

Roy DeSoto felt absolutely ridiculous. He glowered down at his wife. "Jo, you are _not_ calling this in. I can get out all by myself."

Jo smirked, her green eyes dancing in amusement. "You sure about that, Hotshot?"

Roy huffed in annoyance. Jo hadn't called him by his academy nickname in years. He opened his mouth to retort when he looked out across the roof and groaned. A bright yellow school bus pulled up in front of the house. He shot the driver a stink-eye when the man tooted the horn. He mentally flipped him a bird when the oblivious man added a cheerful wave.

His daughter and son jumped off the bus, ran up the driveway, and stood with their mouths hanging open, staring at their firefighter father, one of the best paramedics in Los Angeles, with his arms stuck down their chimney. Uncertainly, Chris called up to him "Dad, are you okay?"

Roy sighed and rolled his eyes. He tried for complete nonchalance. "Oh, yeah, Son, I'm… peachy."

Jennifer simply stared at him her big blue eyes open as wide as dinner plates.

JoAnne looked at her husband from her place on the lawn. "Roy, you know I have to call. You've been stuck for over an hour now."

Roy nodded in defeat. "I know. I was just hoping I could wait it out."

Jo chuckled. "Well, I could call our local station, instead of the guys, if you like. That might be less humiliating."

Roy considered her offer. "Nope. It won't. Just do me a favor and don't call it through Sam."

His loving bride grinned at him. "Of course not. But you get to explain to your captain why you decided to play with the chimney when you were supposed to be in bed resting."

Roy grimaced. "I told Cap I was feeling better. I could have worked today."

Jo looked back up as she headed inside. "Maybe you should have. Then you wouldn't be in this mess." She giggled as she heard her husband's growl follow her into the house. Jo smiled as she shepherded her two very bewildered children inside with her.

**~51~**

**Station 51**

**16:05 Hours**

The phone rang in the dayroom and Marco happened to be closest. "County Station 51, Fireman Marco Lopez."

"Hi Marco, this is JoAnne DeSoto. May I speak to Captain Stanley, please?"

"Sure. Hang on a minute."

Marco put the call on hold and hurried to Cap's office, tapping on his door. When Cap responded, he stuck his head inside. "JoAnne DeSoto on the line for you, Cap. Might be about Roy and his flu."

Cap nodded distractedly and picked up the line. The rest of the shift was surprised when he burst from the office less than a minute later, hollering, "Still alarm, guys. "DeSoto's place! I've already called us out on it. Let's go!"

Johnny looked up in confusion as he headed for the squad. "Roy's flu?"

Cap looked at him for a moment. His expression was unreadable. "You could say that."

Brice headed for the driver's side but shifted direction immediately at the sharp look from John. They worked well but not easily with each other. John pulled out into traffic behind Big Red, still musing over Cap's odd comment. It was soon forgotten as he concentrated on getting to his best friend's house, maneuvering expertly through the rush hour that affected both highway and surface traffic.

Johnny was worried, because when he talked to Roy the night before, he had seemed as if he was feeling better, and had even mentioned coming to work next shift. _What had changed? _He was also confused, because Jo would have called in a closer station, through Sam Lanier at Dispatch if it had been a true emergency. They would just have to wait to see what was going on. It was a mystery, and John hated mysteries.

**The DeSoto Home**

**16:11 Hours**

John stepped out of the squad and stared up at his partner in disbelief. "What the hell?" He was pretty sure he had voiced exactly what everyone else was thinking. "Roy, what did you do?!"

Roy looked back down at him with supreme irritation. "Just get me outta here! My back is killing me! I'll explain later!"

It took a couple of minutes for the absurdity of the situation to wear off and then everyone seemed to drop into professional mode. It was Stoker who seemed to pull it together first. He calmly eyed Lopez. "C'mon Marco. Let's get the ladder and get Johnny up there. See what we need to do to get him outta there. Don't think I'll need to be monitoring any hoses, right, Cap?"

Cap came out of the incredulous daze he had fallen into after timing them out with Dispatch. "Right Mike. You guys get that ladder up against the house. Johnny, check Roy out, make sure he's doin' all right."

Roy, hearing this, protested. "Cap, I'm fine. I just got my arms stuck is all."

Cap threw Roy one of his "looks," and Roy snapped his mouth shut. He simply nodded silently. Even Roy knew better than to argue with Cap when he got that look on his face.

Chet looked at Cap. "What about me?"

"I want you on the roof. John's gonna need help getting Roy free of whatever's got him trapped. That's your job. Brice, you wait down here to help John on the off-chance Roy's actually hurt." Brice nodded silently and Chet headed to the ladder to carry out his assignment.

Again, Roy couldn't resist adding his two cents. "I'm not hurt!"

Cap glared up at his senior paramedic. "Yet."

Roy got the message. _He shut up._

Chet, John, Marco and Mike conferred on how best to free their comrade. Roy wasn't given a vote, simply because he was not helpful at all. All of a sudden, Marco started muttering in Spanish, and a grin lit his face. Mike, who also spoke Spanish looked at the lineman.

In English he said, "Might work, but I don't think we're gonna find any lard around here. Cooking oil maybe…"

Marco shook his head. "Too light. You need something heavy, amigo."

Mike snapped his fingers. "I know. I saw something in the garage a couple of weeks ago when we were working on Jo's station wagon." He grinned wickedly at Roy. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

Roy glowered at the engineer. "Ha-ha, Stokes. Very funny."

Stoker was gone for only a couple of minutes and returned with a can of something that was ominously brown, thick and somewhat foul smelling. He also pulled a two-inch-wide paint brush from his shirt pocket. Roy grimaced when he realized what Stoker intended to do.

"Awww, Mike, do you have to?"

Mike quirked an eyebrow. "You intend to watch your kids graduate from high school from your roof?"

Roy smirked but surrendered the point. "Fine. But how the hell am I supposed to get that crap off my chimney?"

Mike was philosophical. "You'll figure it out. I have a better question. Why the hell did you stick your arms down your chimney in the first place?" He began painting the axle grease onto Roy's arms as they talked.

Roy sighed and blushed bright red with embarrassment. "Bird."

Stoker looked at him askance. "Come again?"

"There was a damn bird stuck up in the chimney. The flue was broken. I was tryin' to fix it, but I couldn't get to the bird. I came up here to try to get the stupid bird out and… well… I got stuck, okay?"

Chet, who had been watching Mike and John work Roy's arms loose, stared at Roy. "A bird. You got stuck because of a bird? Oh man, DeSoto, that's rich! That sounds like something Gage would do!"

Now it was Johnny's turn to glower. "Shut up, Chet."

Mike finished with the second coat of grease, and he and John renewed their efforts. This time Chet and Marco lent their strength as well.

John got a firm grip under his partner's right arm. "C'mon Roy, pull!"

And finally, just like that, Roy's arms began to slide out, and his shift-mates were able to ease him into a sitting position on the roof. His hands and arms were black and greasy, but he was free. He also had some minor cuts and abrasions, but they were nothing that could not be attended to with some minor first aid, as long as they were well cleaned. John knew that Jo would insist Roy see his own doctor just to make sure there was no problems. They were just grateful he hadn't actually been hurt in the fiasco.

They all laughed at Roy as he instinctively ran his hands through his hair just before he went down the ladder. That action resulted in his hair, as well as his arms winding up a blackened oily mess.

Jo groaned theatrically, rolling her eyes at her husband. "I am going to get a hot shower ready for you, Mister, in the downstairs guest bathroom." She smiled at the others just as she headed inside. "Thanks, fellas."

Sheepishly, Roy watched her go and then turned to his comrades. "Look, this was embarrassing, but I wanna thank you guys for getting me outta there. I appreciate it. If you hadn't…"

Whatever else Roy had been going to say was lost when suddenly Chris came running out of the house. He was shouting excitedly, his words running together. "Daddy, Daddy, the bird dropped down outta the fireplace. It's flyin' all over the house, only guess what? It wasn't a bird at all, Daddy! It was a bat!"

Roy stared at his son. "Did you say a—"

The shriek that emanated from the living room could have leveled the Astrodome. **"Royal Christopher DeSoto, get this bat out of my house right NOW!"**

Chris's eyes got huge. "Oh, Daddy, you're in big trouble. She used your whole name!"

The rest of 51-A looked to their Captain for guidance. It took Hank Stanley only a split second to render his decision. He looked at Roy. "Look, Pal, we'd love to stay and help, but we really should be getting back to the station. If you have any problems, call Animal Control. I'm sure they know what to do. Call me if you aren't gonna be able to make it in for your next shift. That _flu_ can be a real bear…."

And with the ghost of a very wicked smile on his face, Hank Stanley turned to follow his men back to their vehicles.

**~The End~**


End file.
